The Slender Man Can
by NathanEryk
Summary: "The thing about the man that scared Ben the most was the man's reach. He had been able run away from problems before and had done so on many occasions but now he was faced with a concept most children his age had not even been introduced to…The inevitable." Slender man, A proxy, A young boy and His mother.
1. Flight

Laboured breathing, a rather unsettling sound even if it is his own. A sound made all the more unsettling when he is the only breathing thing that as far as he knows still exists in the world.

The ringing of static in his ears, much like that on Daddy's radio but far louder and far more intimate, was another sound that instilled a terror and paranoia in his impressionable mind.

Though both these sounds unsettled him, what he had seen was another thing all together.

Beyond the fear he felt now, Ben had little foresight and had spent no time contemplating the implications of his current situation. Ben had automatically made the assumption that he was just somewhere else and that his home was still a real place and that his family were still living somewhere beyond the confines of this acursed Forest.

He had nothing to back this belief up but hope and fear of the alternative. Of course Ben couldn't comprehend the alternative, the ripe age he was.

He was just starting to understand how girls and boys were different let alone how the pale shade making him scamper in fear between the trees differed from the other men who he had seen wearing similar attire.

Well, he did understand that this one lacked a face and perhaps if Ben was more eloquent he would describe the slim man's appearance as a slender figure clad in black and capped with an Ivory head. Maybe if Ben was also a tad more imaginative he could have used his observations of the skinny man's movement to come to the conclusion that the tall man was also somehow vast, that the figure he caught glimpses of was not the being in its entirety and that in fact the forest itself was the creature and that the apparition that tormented him was but the physical embodiment of the being…Perhaps that would account for the lack of a face, of eyes and ears.

If the figure was but a probing digit, searching for the irritation within the forest, then perhaps the forest was the eyes and ears. The trees hearing his light footsteps, the forest floor tasting the salt of his tears as he ran so hard he cried. Ben was too young to comprehend these thoughts, even if he did have them, and if he did comprehend them they would cause him far greater fear than what he felt now.

The thing about the man that scared Ben the most was the man's reach. He had been able run away from problems before and had done so on many occasions but now he was faced with a concept most children his age had not even been introduced to…

…The inevitable.

Ben was not too young to die, if he was why was he here? With the slim person in the expansive yet small world of the forest. Ben had noticed that he seemed to retrace his steps far too often but he had not the time to think about it in depth since his brain didn't have enough blood. He had, for an excruciatingly long time, been 'flighting' for his life. He could not conceivably fight for his life. The tall man was certainly quick as he had on one occasion 'ran' circles around Ben without moving a limb. The slim being was certainly very resilient for it had not tired from this quick movement either.

Despite Ben's confusion and creeping sense that maybe his home was no longer reachable, he had snatched the very static and creaseless pages and proceeded to trap them in the large pouch at the front of his star encrusted onesie.

He had been extracted from his home during the night, what other time would an abduction of this nature take place? He had upon arriving here wondered aimlessly as sleepy children do. He took this time to sample the thick atmosphere of the place and listen to how his feet were so very loud in his ears, he had then proceeded to scream at the top of his voice 'Mummy!' until the lack of an answer subdued him into a lonely silence.

He had not enjoyed his encounters with the suited man as the man had very quickly taken to the habit of appearing behind Ben. For some reason this compelled Ben to always look around. He had in his rather brief life become very skilled in the art of ignoring his problems but as before there was no running and certainly no hiding from the skinny man.

Ben had for the longest time been running and stopping, running and stopping, and had not yet been able to catch his breath. So it was now, when Ben stopped running and span like a lighthouse with his new torch, He realised he was done running…

…as did the beast stalking this ever so frail prey.

Ben had caught glimpses, turned quickly and seen the lean creature many times but that was in the past and those glances mere memories. Now, as the creature approached Ben from the treeline, he saw the definition of a shared fear among people.

Ben would not know this but it is thought that there are certain traits found in objects and living beings alike that stir certain emotions in all people. What Ben saw now was something that could so easily be described as designed to instil this shared fear, this shared repulsion, in people. This being was a mimicry, a deformed and perverted copy of the human form. Much like Undead or many other monsters from fiction, this creature was creepy as it shared both characteristics with the living and the dead. A pale shell of purest skin, almost as if woven from fine silk, with a tint of eggshell white to give it that slightest similarity to the complexion of the living.

The demeanour with which it carried itself evoked fear, the slow yet sudden nearing, closer to the oh so vulnerable person, inevitable, inescapable. Another characteristic that had scared many since its conception was the lack of a face, the unreadable adversary, no sign of human emotion or recognition of its surroundings…

…and yet it gazed. Ben could feel its impossible gaze as it scrutinized this insignificant child. Perhaps this feeling of being watched did emanate from the forest itself. Mummy had always said the stars were watching over him. He looked to the sky, averting his gaze from the approaching monster, and saw no stars. There was only a swollen low hanging moon. Ben scrutinized the moon's surface and saw that, like the man, it lacked any features or texture. He looked away, the moon reminding him too much of the man's lack of a face…or perhaps reminding him too much of an intense eye.

Ben had been to the large tree thrice before whilst wondering and here he was again, seeking security in a familiar place in such an alien world. He had upon arriving thought the place so very strange and so very alien that it had not crossed his mind that he was in fact the alien in this place. he was the thing that stood out among all others; he was the one that did not belong here, he was scared instead of feared, he was young instead of timeless, he was alive opposed to dead, he did not belong…

…Yet here he was.

He ran to the tree, burying his face in the bark, and began mumbling the lullabies his mother had sang to him. He was finished; no more running for he was too tired, no more searching out pages for he was too scared. He was finished trying, finished struggling.

Bursts of static rang in his ears, making his very thoughts go fuzzy as he yelped at the sensation. He felt a force on his shoulder and as it tried to turn him around he buried his face deeper into the dead bark, his fingers digging in, causing the bark to splinter in his hands. He was finished, he had played this game long enough and simply wanted it to end, he did not care if he lost he wanted it to be done and over, he wanted the tension in his muscles to cease.

The force tugged on him again and this time he relented, his feeble will all but still there. He fought the urge to run, to survive, he was done living. He fought every instinct of self-preservation and looked into the face of his tormentor in hope the torment would end.

And his torment did end for what he saw brought him the silliest calmness. The tall man just stood before him. It did not carry sharp things for cutting or have large hands for hurting. The body standing in front of him was that of a mannequin. It looked too much like an object to be a alive and was much too thin to be able to cause any hurt or even move for that matter.

The static had ceased. The game was over. The lithe limb of the statue before Ben rested gently on his shoulder, no sign of a hand at the end but instead a stump. The creature had caught him or at least succeeded in preventing him from doing whatever had offended it.

The creature's 'face', which Ben could have sworn had somehow looked at him, was as blank as could be. Ben looked without fear and saw the face was very much without whatever expression he had thought had been there.

Ben very cautiously opened his mouth, ever so slightly, and let out as gently as possible a breath that had been forced to stay within his lungs. He let out the heavy sigh and it brought him comfort. He had been caught and yet was still breathing.

Then the being's limb fell from his shoulder, taking it's place limply at the man's side, Ben could not tell whether the arm had been moved or had simply slipped off.

He looked into the facless head of the creature and tried to see if there really was nothing there. What happened now? Something must happen now? Perhaps it _had _been a game all along? Perhaps the man had simply wanted to play tag and since he had won Ben was free to go. Perhaps the man had never meant to scare Ben and it had all been a misunderstanding on his part.

Now that the man had finally caught up to Ben the lanky figure did not look the least bit menacing. The torment was truly over; The tension in Ben's shoulders ceased, he breathed freely, wiped the snot from his face.

Ben smiled dumbly.

The man smiled back.

Ben's smile failed instantly.

The slender man's smile only widened.

Ben's new flashlight failed just as quickly as his smile did.

* * *

**Author's Note: If I allowed any spelling mistakes to escape my scrutiny do pray tell me as I finished writing this on a touch-pad with out any spell-check function. For the same reason the formatting maybe a bit 'janky'.**

**Any other quibbles do please specify.**

**I rather enjoyed writing this and think it is some of my best work. This chapter was mostly setting the stage for the events of Chapter Two. I could quite easily have started this story with the encounter by the tree but I thought it necessary to give it a good set up.**

**I do hope the insignificant human that requested this enjoys it immensely as well as any one else who bothers to take a gander.**

**-NathanEryk**


	2. Exchange

Oh woe is he. To feel hope and then...well...Ben now knew all to well that to continue breathing was indeed his less attractive option for the next few moments.

He now watched lazily, his body to tired to react to his fear, as the crease in the man's face that served as his smile tore asunder with a sound like the tearing of fabric and flesh as one.

This newly formed mouth was so very different from the man's outward appearance. The Slender Man's maw was a ragged chasm across the bottom half of its face. It was a Maw fit for one of Ben's Halloween pumpkins, messy and crooked.

Ben's arms had gone slack since holding up the flashlight had become futile. In the light of the moon he could see all too well The Slender Man crack its smile wider.

It was now that Ben could see that within this mouth were rows upon rows of Ivory needles protruding from the man's black gums. They were not the teeth of a person nor the teeth of an animal. These needle like teeth were placed like they had been jammed into its jaw haphazardly.

The lack of symmetry was rather distasteful. To think a being in possession of such suave and neat attire could be in itself unruly. It saddens me...I digress.

It leaned towards Ben. It was so tall it had to bow itself until its head and shoulders were below its own waist in order to come mouth to eye level with Ben. It placed its hand on Ben's shoulder again and this time it indeed had a hand. Through The Slender Man's seemingly delicate skin his bones were visible yet veins and arteries were no where to be found.

Its hand griped his shoulder despite there being no tendons in its fingers. It pulled Ben towards its mouth. He was so close to the man's face he could make out the subtle grooves and bulges of a skull or perhaps muscles behind its face. Ben watched as from between the many rows of needles came a black tongue.

The tongue was thin at the end and fat at the base in the man's mouth. It was slick with saliva and so, in the light of the moon, it had a sheen. It was like a writhing mass of solid oil.

The Slender Man's tongue rolled across its many rows of teeth before retracting. Ben thought the man may be smelling him like a snake since he had no nose.

Smelling him or not The Slender Man was certainly inspecting Ben. It drew Ben closer still and pressed what should have been its forhead against his.

Ben stopped breathing as a static noise began to tickle his ears. It was a harsher and far more intimate version of the static Ben had been subjected to earlier. The noise was no better than the thick silence of before. Ben found that when he tried to concentrate on the noise it warped and disappeared. It was like raw silence being forced into his mind.

Concentrating on the noise made Ben's thoughts blurry so he instead focused on the slighty sunken skin where The Slender Man's eye sockets might have been. Around the edges of his vision there was a slight distortion, a crackling of black and white. The static was invading his vision now, affecting his perception of sight as well as sound.

The Slender Man pulled away from Ben and stood at its tallest height. Ben rubbed at his ears and his eyes, bunching up the sleeves of his onesie in his fists and using the night sky pattern to try and purge the invading static by filling his ears and blotting out his sight.

His attempts were futile and soon his distorted vision became even more so as tears burst from the wells of his eyes.

It was then he heard a cracking through the static in his ears. He looked up, his eyes puffy from crying and his face bruised and slightly red from his rubbing, and saw as well as heard The Slender Man's jaw snap.

He heard a series of snaps and then the sound of bones mending again and again as its jaw repeatedly crumpled and realigned until it was far larger. The skin around its mouth seemed strained as its head changed dimensions.

The Slender Man suddenly arched its back as the cracking of bones ceased. It's spine curled as it brought its gapping mouth to eye level with Ben once more. There were more rows of needles than before and Ben could now see the stretched and quivering tissue on the inside of The Slender Man's mouth and throat.

The Slender Man cocked its head to the side with a crack of its neck so that the chasm that was its mouth was now vertical.

Ben watched through his static ridden eyes as the maw widened and moved forward. The rows of needles passed by Ben's field of vision and grazed the sides of his head. The oily tongue writhed against Ben's face which caused Ben to shiver with disgust.

Yet Ben stood there and simply took it all in. It was surprising that he had not screamed throughout the entire experience like many other children did...perhaps he felt screaming would not be a suitable enough expression of his horror.

Ben stared. His eyes glazed over with static dancing across the entirety of his vision and his ears deaf thanks to the harsh pulsing of silence.

The Slender Man's maw was impossibly vast yet constricting, much like the forest which had now been completely lost to Ben's mind. The forest had gradually eaten away at Ben's inner workings and now this monster would consume him entirely.

In these moments of greatest distress Ben sought solace in thoughts of his mother. He reflected now on the last time he had seen her, smiling down upon him from her greater height. His dearest parent who had invested so much emotion and sentiment into her little boy ever since the day he had been born.

Ben felt his very heart tighten in a grip of saddness and longing unparalleled by any other child of his age.

So young and yet experiencing such an utter and raw feeling of regret and depression, So innocent yet so miserably tortured by...guilt? Regret? What regrets could he have...perhaps he wished he had lived longer and so had made his mothers investment worthwhile? Your speculation is as good as mine...We digress.

The image of his dearest mother that had rested comfortably in his thoughts until now became restless. It suddenly warped, cracked and burst into static fragments. These fragments ignited a chain reaction and it was so that his very thoughts broke and were destroyed by his torment.

The desolation of the young boys heart was such that he finally screamed. It was a feeble and weak scream but the sheer raw emotion it portrayed made up for its lack of volume.

As Ben screamed The Slender Man flexed its jaws slightly. Its needle shaped teeth dug into and pierced the edges of Ben's face. They punctured his skin and slid into the flesh that was his face until they hit against bone.

* * *

The Slender Man's jaw snapped into place once the deed was done. It stepped back from the limp form of the boy and waited for the next part.

Its face and extremities had returned to their docile shapes as it had recomposed itself. It stood motionless and silent.

The boy had granted it such torment and pain that the creature felt no requirement to keep what left of him and so it waited, infinitely patient, for the next part.

Its patience was not tested for long as it felt beyond it self that both steps and moisture were falling but a few hundred metres away. He stooped over the motionless child and wrapped his limbs around his frame before standing and stepping impossibly far through its domain.

Only one proxy stood to claim the spoils and finish The Slender Man's task. They wore attire which was iconic of their kind, a hooded jumper and a pair of denim jeans.

Though they wore masks to hide their faces they each still wished to own an identity and so it was no surprise that this particular one had jagged black marker around their eyeholes and an eight by two grid in front of its mouth, to symbolise gritted teeth, on their facade.

To further characterize themselves they had cut two slits from their mask, running from their jaw to the bottom of their eyes. These served to display the stains running down their cheeks caused by their constant weeping.

The proxy was sat on the ground, gently convulsing as they sobbed. When The Slender Man approached they looked up suddenly, causing some of the tears that clung to their face to become dislodged.

They stood promptly, using their weapon of choice to prop them up. Another distinguishing characteristic of theirs was the sledgehammer they wielded. It's red handle and steel head were hard to make out in the dark so it was surprisingly, given enough room, more effective for dispatching things stealthily than a glinting knife or scalpel.

Of course it was more cumbersome and so in order to take the boy from The Slender Man's grasp it was necessary to drop it down their jumper so the head rested against their neck and the handle ran parallel to their spine, secured by a twisted pair of leather belts around the adolescents torso.

The broken person took Ben from the arms of one that could never be considered a person. They held the boy affectionately across their arms as if they were a babysitter having stumbled across a slumbering child in their care.

They looked down and let out a choked sob at the serene expression on Ben's face before finally looking at The Slender Man. The tears on their cheeks and jaw falling onto the stars below, dampening the onesie fabric slightly.

As they shook and almost collapsed under the weight The Slender Man reached a nub ended appendage to the proxy's face. It forced their forehead to the boys and through static and numbness the necessary was acquired.

Their tears stopped if only temporarily. Their tragedy forgotten if only momentarily as they turned without pause and walked away. The Slender Man was left to itself as the devoted follower left its realm...Their prize securely in their grasp and their task securely in their mind.

* * *

**Author's Note: I had hoped for this to last three chapters at the most but since I am making this up as I go it may very well end up as four.**

**The motives for both Slender Man and my OC proxy are left vague so as to keep the story suitably mysterious and also because it midnight as I wright this and I have not the constitution to be fancy and detailed with what was originally a one-shot.**

**Hope you enjoyed reading it much more than I enjoyed stumbling over it.**

**-NathanEryk**


End file.
